


For just a little while longer, rest

by MaskoftheRay



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Caring Jaskier | Dandelion, Cute, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hair Brushing, Hair Washing, Jaskier is trying to show Geralt how to relax, Light Angst, M/M, Mini-Vacation, POV Jaskier | Dandelion, Short & Sweet, Slice of Life, Soft Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Teaching self-care to witchers is HARD, Tired Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:47:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24695515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaskoftheRay/pseuds/MaskoftheRay
Summary: Geralt is tired. Fortunately for him, Jaskier has landed them a two-night stay at the local noble’s home through some clever bargaining.He and Geralt take advantage of the amenities.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 15
Kudos: 153





	For just a little while longer, rest

Geralt claimed that he did not require as much sleep as an ordinary person— “Meditation will suffice most of the time, bard,” he would grumble whenever Jaskier voiced his disbelief— and perhaps this was true. But the bard still very much doubted it. _Everyone needs sleep_ , he grumbled internally, _even fool witchers who think themselves above the wants of mortal men_. It would not be surprising if he discovered that some, if not _most_ , of the White Wolf’s characteristically gruff and oft-surly attitude came from sleep deprivation.

But when Geralt _did_ sleep, he did so as he did most other things: fearsomely, and with complete devotion.

“Geralt,” he murmured, running a few wet, wrinkly fingers down the witcher’s cheek in an effort to wake him. Geralt merely flinched, squirming away from Jaskier’s encroaching touch. The bard sighed. “Much as I would enjoy seeing more of your gloriously naked body, my Wolf, I am neither strong enough to lift you, nor water-proof enough to survive a soaking if we happened to topple the tub.” He chuckled to himself, and planted a kiss on the witcher’s cheek.

This, apparently, was enough to wake Geralt where his wet, pruney fingers were not.

“Hmm, Jaskier— did I fall asleep?” murmured a still very-sleepy witcher.

He smiled, heart feeling as squeezed as the oranges their noble host had provided for that morning’s juice. There were many aspects of courtly life which Jaskier did not miss— the rigidity, duplicity, propriety, and back-stabbing— but some of the creature comforts… yes. He would be lying if he said that he did not enjoy the indulgences of a soft bed, fresh sheets, a warm bath, and tasty treats such as oranges and chocolate. Oh, and sleeping in too. And books, and clothes— well, okay.

There were _more_ than a few things which Jaskier missed.

But he would give them all up, forever and ever more, if he could only see Geralt as soft and pliant as he currently was with more regularity. _A shame that isn’t likely to happen_ , he thought, suppressing a sigh. “Yes, my love, you did. Time to get out before you get wrinkly as well.” He chuckled wryly, and ran a hand over his lover’s face again, as if in demonstration. Really, it was to make sure that Geralt did not nod off on him again, as it looked like he was about to.

“ _Jaskier_ ,” the witcher grumbled. But there was no heat behind it. And though he could not see Geralt’s face, the bard could picture the adorable expression on it as he purposely annoyed the other man: a scrunched up nose, pursed lips, furrowed brow. When he finally let up, Geralt sunk lower into the still-warm water, and sighed. His breathing began to even out again.

“Oh no you don’t,” Jaskier murmured. He stood, and shook one of the witcher’s deliciously large, muscled shoulders. “Come on, you. Time for bed. I’m afraid that even witchers will catch cold if they’re left in a cooling tub for long enough. And I happen to know that you can’t breathe underwater, either. Much as it would make fighting aquatic monsters easier.”

“Mm. Would,” Geralt agreed, words coming out slightly hazy and disjointed. But he still sat up, and Jaskier watched, slightly dry-mouthed as the witcher stood all at once, rising up from the tub like some glorious water-dwelling god. He was lost for a moment as he gazed at Geralt’s glistening, muscled, _very much nude_ form. Jaskier swallowed.

 _Priorities_ , he chided himself.

The witcher set one foot outside the tub, and he was there with a soft, clean towel in hand. The towel was of much finer quality than what they were used to seeing at the type of inns they frequented. Once Geralt was dried off, they set about getting him dressed. With how exhausted the witcher was, putting clothing on— even if only enough to sleep in— was a two-person task. Jaskier took a moment to pull a strand of his lover’s gorgeous white hair towards his face, and inhaled. “Did you like the new shampoo I bought?”

“Yes,” Geralt said simply. “It was… tingly. And cool.”

He snorted, but it was more affectionate than amused. “Yes, that would be the Tea Tree oil. I can buy it again, if you’d like.”

“That’d be—” a yawn cut off the witcher’s words. “Nice.”

Jaskier smiled, and Geralt returned it, eyes half-lidded with sleep. The rest of his features were neutral: no worried lines, furrows, or flared nostrils; no sign of care or stress. _Perfect_. He had worked hard to make Geralt look that way. This had included the bard bargaining for a two-night’s stay at this castle. In exchange for his hospitality, the hiring noble had received the witcher’s services, and his performance at last night’s banquet. _Well worth all the hassle_.

“Do you want me to brush you hair? It will mean delaying sleep for a little while longer, unfortunately, but then we won’t have to deal with those _dreadful_ tangles you get tomorrow,” Jaskier inquired.

“Might fall asleep on you, but… brushing sounds good,” Geralt said.

He quirked a brow, small teasing smile crossing his lips. “Aha! So you _do_ like my ministrations after all. Perhaps one day I will finally get you to admit that you enjoy my singing as well.”

“Hmm. Maybe. If you can get us this—” the witcher gestured vaguely at the room— “again, I will.”

Jaskier’s other eyebrow joined the first in genuine surprise. “What’s this I hear? Are you, the fearsome White Wolf, going _soft_ on me?” he teased. But secretly, the bard felt rather like a canary ready to belt out a tune, or maybe the cat who had gotten it.

It was so _rare_ for the witcher to allow himself anything nice, anything even vaguely ‘luxurious,’ that he had been a bit afraid that Geralt would refuse their host’s (cajoled) offer out of some ill-placed sense of pride. But, thank all the gods, he hadn’t. Obviously. And now they had one more day to spend here, doing nothing— or rather, doing nothing _but_ each other.

The witcher grunted. “ ’s not so bad, on occasion.”

Though Geralt probably couldn’t see it, the poor dear’s eyelids were fluttering like a pair of moth’s wings, he smiled. “I’ll take note of that. Maybe we can do this— taking a rest— a bit more often.”

“Hmm,” Geralt said.

Jaskier could not definitively say that it was a _dis_ agreeing ‘hmm,’ so he chalked it up as a victory. “Right then. Let’s get your hair sorted out, then bed.” He gently placed a guiding palm on Geralt’s back and got him sitting down comfortably.

True to his earlier warning, the witcher did fall asleep about halfway through the hair brushing process. That was perfectly fine with Jaskier; it was not often that Geralt allowed himself to simply be held, as much as he truly deserved it. The bard finished the job, extricated himself rather stealthily from beneath the other man’s considerable body weight, and set aside the brush. Then he blew out the candle, managed to tug the covers out from under Geralt, and climbed into bed, recovering his lover as well as himself.

“Goodnight, my love.”

**Author's Note:**

> I’m currently working on an angsty fae!Jaskier longfic, so I needed a break from that. This is _extremely_ self-indulgent, and was written very quickly. Working title was literally “Another Bathing Fic,” so... TAKE IT!


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